Untitled
by Stylux.edie
Summary: Mike Ross is the younger cousin of Shawn Spencer when Mike was younger, his parents and Henry had a falling out. He and Harvey are on vacation in Santa Barbara and Mike looks up his family. Slash between Mike and Harvey and Shawn and Lassiter.
1. Chapter 1

So I'm a huge fan of both shows and how awesome would it be if Shawn and Mike were related and did nothing but cause trouble for Henry and Gus? I don't really have a plot set out yet, other than Mike and Harvey are on a forced vacation in Santa Barbara where Mike looks up his uncle and cousin. This is slash of the Mike/Harvey and Shawn/Lassiter kind. Don't like, don't read. Please review.

Ok, I realized something, thinking about Psych, Henry has his brother, 'Uncle Jack' so I made Mike's mother their sister, duh so I've made a slight change to the story, sorry, please forgive my stupidness.

* * *

Mike had left Harvey at the hotel as he made his way to the address he had memorized and now stood outside on the front porch, staring at the door. It had been years since he had seen his cousin and uncle, Henry had been his mother's brother and when Mike had been ten they had had a huge falling out. When Mike's parent's had died when he was fifteen, both Shawn and Henry had shown up but had only stayed long enough for the funeral before leaving. He had been left to the care of his father's mother in the wake of their death and had rarely spoken to either man afterwards.

Taking a deep breath, Mike raised his hand and knocked on the door and stood back to wait. A minute later, the door opened to his Uncle Henry standing there, he looked older, had lost some hair but was essentially the same.

"Yeah? Can I help you?" he asked, not recognizing the man standing in front of him.

"Uncle Henry, it's me, Mike, Mike Ross," Mike asked and the other man squinted at him. He was Henry's only nephew that he knew of, unless uncle Jack had had kids without his knowing, so he gave his last name, just in case.

"Mike?" the man asked, stepping closer to get a better look and Mike smiled. "I'll be damned," Henry said and pulled the younger man into a hug. "Come on in," he said, stepping back and leading Mike into the house that he remembered from his childhood. "How have you been?" he asked and they sat down in the family room, Henry taking a chair and Mike taking the couch.

"I've been good, still living in New York, I'm a lawyer now," Mike said and grinned.

"Congratulations," Henry said, "do you want a drink?" he asked, standing and going into the kitchen before he returned with two beers, handing one to Mike. "How is your grandmother?" he asked, returning to his seat and taking a sip from the bottle.

"She's in a home, her health isn't the greatest but she's surviving," Mike replied, rolling the bottle between his hands.

"That's good, that's good," the older man said and they sat together for a long moment in silence. "Sorry we haven't kept in better touch," he said suddenly and Mike blinked at him.

"It goes both ways," he said, shrugging and Henry grunted before he took another drink. "How's Shawn?" he asked and the older man snorted and rolled his eyes. Before he could respond, the front door opened and a voice called out.

"Dad?" Shawn asked, walking in and looking around for his father.

"Ask him yourself," Henry replied as he stood and turned to greet his son. "Shawn," he said in greeting and Mike stood as well and Shawn tipped his head to the side.

"Mike?" he asked and the other young man grinned as Shawn walked forward and pulled him into a hug. "How are you? What are you doing here?" he asked, pulling back. Shawn hadn't changed much over the years, he was taller of course, but he still had the unruly hair and big grin.

"I'm good Shawn, how are you?" Mike replied, pulling back. They had been close growing up, though Mike lived in New York his entire life, he had spent two months a year in California with his cousin and uncle.

"Good, Gus will be excited to see you," he said.

"How is Gus?" Mike asked.

"Good, he's at Psych," Shawn explained and Mike cocked an eyebrow.

"Psych?" he asked and Henry snorted from where he had sat back down.

"Oh, you'll love this Mike," he said, "Shawn's a psychic." Mike snorted and looked back at Shawn, both eyebrows raised this time. With having Shawn as a cousin and one of his best friends growing up, he knew about the other man's unbelievable memory, like Shawn knew of his. Combined they had driven both Gus and Henry crazy with the pranks they had come up with.

"Psych is my business, I'm also a psychic consultant to the Santa Barbara police department," Shawn said, grinning.

"And they believe you?" Mike asked incredulously.

"Most of them, there's one detective, Lassiter, who hasn't had the wool pulled completely over his eyes," Henry spoke up again.

"I'll bring him around," Shawn said shrugging and led Mike to the couch where he they both sat. "What are you up to these days?" he asked Mike.

"I'm a lawyer," Mike replied, grinning and Shawn grinned back.

"Finally stopped taking the LSAT's for other's and took it for yourself huh?" Shawn asked. When Shawn and Henry had had their falling out, Shawn had made his way to New York in his travels and they had caught up. Shawn had been highly amused with Mike's money making scheme but had not been impressed with Trevor and the pot smoking. Shawn was five years older than Mike and had chewed him out, having always been overprotective of the younger man he saw as a younger brother.

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," Henry said, standing up and walking out of the room, grumbling under his breath.

"Uh," Mike said, rubbing the back of his neck, "not exactly, my boss, Harvey Specter, found me with a briefcase of pot and offered me a job."

"I didn't hear that either," came the call from the kitchen.

"He offered you a job because you were carrying a briefcase full of pot?" Shawn asked, impressed.

"No, Trevor," he said, ignoring Shawn's displeased look at the name, "wanted my help selling the briefcase and because my grandmother had $25,000 in medical bills, he was willing to give it to me if I did this for him. When I got there, there were cops waiting for me so I avoided them and escaped down to an interview room where I met Harvey. Once the briefcase popped open, I told him the whole story, he was impressed then I impressed him with my knowledge of law practices and he offered me a job."

"You know what," Henry said, walking out of the kitchen, pulling a baseball cap on, "I'm going to go grab a bite to eat," he said and walked out without a glance back.

"Have you quit the pot smoking?" Shawn asked, and Mike nodded.

"Yeah, it comes with the job," he said and explained how Harvey had made him stop contacting Trevor and then how he had put Trevor on a bus to Montana.

"Good, that guy was bad news," Shawn replied and Mike rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," he finally conceded, looking at his shoes.

"Well, what are you doing here?" Shawn asked a minute later when the silence became too much.

"Harvey was forced on vacation by our boss Jessica; I was forced to go on vacation with him, to make sure that he stays on vacation."

"So you and this Harvey guy…" Shawn said, grinning and waggling his eyebrows.

"What?" Mike said, ignoring the other man's obvious indication.

"Are you sleeping with him?" Shawn asked and Mike rolled his eyes. "You are!" Shawn crowed and pulled Mike into a headlock while giving him a noogie.

"Ok, ok, yes," Mike cried, pushing the other away.

"Are you happy?" Shawn asked and Mike grinned in response. "Good," he said and pulled out his phone when it started ringing. "Shawn Spencer, world's best psychic detective," he said, answering, "hey Lassie," he cried and gave Mike a wink, "get down to the precinct now, as in _now_, now?" Mike chuckled and shook his head, knowing how much Shawn loved to get under people's skin. "Ok, I'll be there in ten," he said and hung up.

"That was Lassiter huh?" Mike asked.

"Yup, he needs me down at the police department, do you want to come?" he asked, standing up.

"Sure, let me call Harvey and let him know," he said as they headed out to the blue car parked at the curb. Harvey it turned out was still at the hotel, or at least he said he was and Mike wanted to believe him so he climbed into the car. "Did you get rid of your bike?" he asked.

"No, this is Gus' car," Shawn said climbing in behind the wheel, "well technically Gus' company car, he doesn't mind that I borrow it. We'll stop by and pick him up on the way."

"So Lassiter huh?" Mike asked a few minutes into the drive.

"What about him?" Shawn asked.

"Are you sleeping with him?" all he received was a grin as they pulled into the parking lot next to a building that faced the beach. Mike followed Shawn out and in through the door next to a window that read 'Psych' in large green letters. Mike shook his head at his cousin's audacity and stepped into the back and looked around. There was two desks, one Burton 'Gus' Guster was sitting behind; the other he assumed was Shawn's. There was a TV, with a bean bag and two chairs facing it, a mini-fridge and door in the back.

"Shawn," Gus said, standing when they entered the room, "I can't believe you took the car, how many times do I have to tell you, you can't do that, you're not insured, what would happen if you got into an accident?"

"Gus," Shawn said taking his friend's shoulders in his hands, "I had to, the spirits were telling me I needed to head to my dad's house that someone important was waiting for me."

"Don't try to pull that crap on me Shawn," Gus said, shaking a finger in Shawn's face but instead of responding, Shawn turned Gus to face Mike.

"Hey Gussy," Mike said, waving a hand and the other man grinned.

"Mike," he said and went in for a hug but at the last second stopped and held out a hand for Mike to shake.

"I see you're still putting up with Shawn's crap," Mike said, forgoing the handshake to pull Gus into a hug.

"Someone has to," Gus replied and they both grinned at Shawn who protested at their talk about him.

"Come on, Lassie called," Shawn said and led the way out of the building and handing Gus the keys as they all climbed into the car.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, again, I have no idea where this is going, it's grown a slight plot, very slight, if you squint hard enough, and I've also added Juliette/Gus to the mix. I'm not usually a big shipper of this pair but hey, Gus needs love too. Usually if I write something I have the thing planned out from the first word to the end, but this, I'm just writing on the fly and going with whatever pops into my head. I don't have a lot of ideas on what the pranks Shawn and Mike pulled while in their youth yet, but I like the one I came up with in this one, as unlikely as it is and look forward to figuring out more.

Thanks to **torchil **for the review and I'm glad you liked it. Thank you too, to those who favorited and alerted to the story, glad people are liking it.

* * *

Gus preceded the two related men into the precinct and quickly made his way towards both Juliette and Lassiter's desks.

"Heads up," he said, giving Juliette a quick kiss hello, "Shawn's cousin, Mike, is in town and they're both trouble."

"Shawn has a cousin?" Juliette asked, turning to see both Mike and Shawn walking towards them, Shawn's arms waiving around wildly as they talked.

"That was not my fault," they heard Mike deny as they walked closer, pushing Shawn in the shoulder.

"Ok, I admit, the trip to Tijuana was my idea, but you were the one who got us over the border," Shawn shot back.

"Which is surprising, considering I was seven," Mike said as they stopped in front of the two detectives and Gus.

"Do I even want to know?" Juliette asked smiling at the two men and Gus huffed out an annoyed breath.

"Are you two still arguing about that?" he demanded and the two men grinned at him.

"You're just upset still that you didn't get to enjoy our weekend in Tijuana," Shawn said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"You spent a weekend in Tijuana when you were seven?" Juliette asked looking between the cousins.

"No," Shawn said and Juliette cocked an eyebrow, "Mike was seven, Gus and I were twelve."

"You spent a weekend in Tijuana when you were twelve?" Carlton Lassiter asked, finally speaking up and Shawn smiled and hitched a hip on his desk.

"You'd be surprised what drunken co-eds there on spring break will pay for when faced with three adorable young boys. Well two adorable young boys and a very sick third," he said, shooting a look at Gus, "he drank the water," he said in a stage whisper.

"I didn't know!" Gus defended himself and Juliette took his hand in comfort.

"Who's this?" she asked, looking at Mike, trying to calm her boyfriend who was looking upset.

"This," Shawn said waiving his hand at Mike, "is my cousin Mike, he's a psychic too, it runs in the family." Gus choked on air and Juliette looked intrigued, Lassiter's eyes narrowed and Mike stared at Shawn in shock.

"You're a psychic too?" the intimidating man sitting behind the desk across from the pretty blond woman asked, standing and staring down at Mike, reminding him a bit of Harvey.

"Uh, yeah," he said, "like he said, it runs in the family." The taller man stared down at him for a long moment and Mike felt that he could see all of his lies and would pull them from him painfully if given the chance.

"Come on Lassifrass," Shawn said, stepping between his cousin and the detective, "give him a break, he's here on vacation. Mike, this is Juliette O'Hara," he said, indicating the woman who shook his hand, "and this is Carlton Lassiter," indicating the intimidating man still towering over Mike.

"If I find out your lying," Lassiter said lowly, "I will not hesitate to press charges." Mike shot a panicked look at Shawn who pushed the other man back.

"Why did you call me in Lassiface?" he asked, pushing the man into his chair and Mike took a deep breath in relief.

It turned out that the reason that Detective Lassiter, as he had instructed Mike to call him, under penalty of death (implied of course), had a murder case that they were stumped on. A lawyer had been found dead in his office by his secretary. The man had been shot three times in the chest and there was no sign of forced entry and it seemed that there was no evidence left behind.

Shawn and Gus followed Lassiter and Juliette toward the 'Police Line Do Not Cross' tape but Mike hung back, not sure what he was supposed to be doing.

"Well psychic, are you coming or not?" Lassiter asked, realizing that he wasn't following and Mike nodded to the cop guarding the line as he stepped under it and caught up to Shawn.

"I've never been to a crime scene," he said lowly and Shawn grinned at him.

"Don't worry about it, it's pretty straight forward," the other man said and they walked into the ornate outer office with a large oak desk for the reception and a receiving area with large plush couches and chairs surrounding a low coffee table. There were several expensive-looking paintings hanging on the wall and the floor was made of hard wood. There was a long hallway leading out in front of them, the first two rooms were surrounded by glass and looked like conference rooms, reminding Mike of Pearson Hardman. The detectives moved forward and Shawn, Gus and Mike followed past the conference rooms to a door that had another 'Do Not Cross' line of tape and stopped outside. The first thing that Mike noticed was that the room was full of people, all wearing some sort of protective gear and gathering evidence, or so he assumed. The next thing he noticed was the chair covered in blood and had three holes and luckily no body.

"Mr. Peterson was found this morning at seven-fifteen by his secretary, Ms. Thompson," Lassiter started, moving into the room, "three gunshot wounds to the chest, pronounced dead when the paramedics arrived." Shawn followed the other man in and started looking around; smoothly moving past the people trying to collect evidence that supposedly wasn't there. Mike hadn't moved past the tape but didn't feel too bad about it when he saw Gus hadn't moved further than that either.

"How often do you do this?" he asked the other man who turned his head towards him.

"Whenever we get called in on a case," Gus replied, shrugging.

"How did he get mixed up in this?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet and watching Shawn eye the chair from close up before standing up.

"He kept calling in tips to help the police solve cases, his tips turned out to be true, and of course they started to suspect him."

"Of course," Mike replied, nodding his head.

"They pulled him in for questioning and in, what I believe was panic, he told them was a psychic, pulled some cockamamie story out of his butt and then proceeded to solve their case."

"He and Lassiter?" he asked and Gus shuddered.

"I'm not even going there, I don't understand it and I really don't want to," he said and Mike laughed. He looked down when his phone started ringing and stepped away after excusing himself once he noticed Harvey's name on the caller ID.

"Hey," he said, stepping past the door leading into the offices.

"Where are you?" Harvey's voice asked and Mike looked back through the open doorway noticing that the glass in the door read Redman-Highmore and Assoc.

"At a crime scene?" he replied and was met with silence.

"I'm not bailing you out of jail," was finally the response he received and he rolled his eyes.

"Harvey, I didn't commit any crime, my cousin, Shawn, works with the police department and they called him in," he explained.

"How long do you think you'll be?" Harvey asked.

"Oh, do you miss me?" Mike teased and heard the other man scoff.

"We have reservations tonight at seven, don't be late," he said and hung up the phone. Shaking his head, Mike put his phone back in his pocket and walked back through the doorway. He walked up to where he had left Gus outside of the room and watched as Shawn placed a finger to his forehead and closed his eyes.

"Watch this," Gus muttered.

"I'm getting something," Shawn cried, "something about a watch?" he asked, "no, time? Yes, the time of death!" he cried, opening his eyes and everyone stared at him. "Mr. Peterson was not killed at seven-fifteen."

"How?" Mike asked and Gus shrugged.

"I have no idea," he said and stepped back as Shawn moved towards them.

"Mike, do you have anything to add?" he asked and Mike stared at him, blinking.

"No, sorry the uh… spirits aren't saying anything to me, I'm a bit rusty," he said, trying not to flinch under Lassiter's gaze.

"Not a problem, I know it's been a while since you've talked to them, being a lawyer and all," he said and smiled back at the detectives behind him.

"Does the building have a security station?" Mike asked, thinking of his own building and the tight security that was in place.

"They have security but they aren't required to check in every morning," Juliette said, looking over her notes.

"Do they have security cameras?" Mike asked.

"They do but they don't have cameras in here," Lassiter said.

"Yes," Mike said slowly, "but they could confirm when he and his secretary got in." Everyone looked at him, before Lassiter turned and snapped his fingers at one of the men in the room.

"Did we pull the tapes?" he snapped and those around him looked at each other and the man sighed. "Go do it!" he snarled and two of the three people in the room almost barreled into Gus and Mike as they rushed past.

"Well we're going to head out, let me know what you find on those tapes," Shawn called and pulled Gus and Mike out of the offices.

"'Let me know what you find on the tapes?'" Gus asked, surprised that Shawn wasn't going to watch the tapes himself.

"Gus, I have family in town, I can't hold their hands through the process. Good idea about the tapes by the way Mike," Shawn said, clapping him on the back.

"Well it makes sense, in my office building you have to have a badge, show it to security and walk through a turnstile," Mike explained, "and I'm quite positive that there are security cameras everywhere."

"What do you want to do next?" Shawn asked, knowing that he would be coming back later when all of the police were gone.

"I should probably go back and check on Harvey," Mike said, "he made dinner reservations for seven; I'm not supposed to be late."

"Well its four now, we can drop you off," Shawn said and they climbed into the car and Mike let them know where they were staying. "So I'll see you at seven?" Shawn asked.

"What about seven?" he asked, half in and half out of the car with the door opened, his hand on the door handle.

"I want to meet your man," Shawn said, "call me and let me know where you guys are going and me and Lassie will join you." Mike looked between him and Gus, Gus looked back and shrugged.

"Ok, sure," Mike said, "see you at seven," he said and climbed out and watched the car pulled away, wondering what Harvey would think of this turn in events.


	3. Chapter 3

It turned out that Harvey had made reservations at a nice restaurant on the beach and through some needling by Mike, was able to change the reservations to four. When they arrived, Lassiter and Shawn were already inside, waiting for them and Mike put a hand on Harvey's arm to stop him.

"I need to tell you something about Shawn," he said, turning the older man towards him, "he's a psychic." His announcement was met with silence so without further ado he let the other shoe drop, "and he told his boyfriend that I was one too." More silence. Mike didn't know how to bring it up at the hotel so he had kept his mouth shut, but now that he was faced with the reality that this might come up he was panicking.

"I assume that since you are _not _a psychic that he isn't one either?" Harvey finally asked and Mike gave him a rueful smile, he should have known that the other man would figure it out.

"His memory is like mine," he explained, "but where I remember everything that I read and understand, he remembers almost anything he sees."

"And this Detective Lassiter has no idea?" Harvey asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Mike replied, shrugging, Harvey didn't say anything; he just turned again and walked into the restaurant, Mike following nervously behind. He didn't think that Harvey would out Shawn or himself and was too good at his job to let something slip.

"Mike," Shawn called across the small lobby as if they were standing on opposite sides of the Grand Canyon while waiving an arm over a non-existent crowd. He was wearing slacks and a dark blue button down shirt; something that Mike was surprised by, considering the other man had hated dressing up for anything while growing up. Lassiter was next to him in a nice suit, looking up when Shawn called out and his eyes narrowed when they looked at Mike.

"Is dressing badly a family trait?" Harvey muttered to Mike as they walked towards the other two men and Mike glanced at Shawn again, this time understanding what Harvey was talking about. Shawn was wearing a pair of beat up sneakers on his feet and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbow and there was a small hole in the knee of his slacks.

"It's a gift," Mike said, fist bumping Shawn when they joined them, noticing that both Harvey and Lassiter rolled their eyes. "Hey Shawn, Lassiter, this is Harvey Specter," Mike said, waving a hand at said man, "Harvey, this is my cousin Shawn Spencer and his…" he paused and looked at Shawn, "this is Detective Carlton Lassiter."

"Nice to meet you," Harvey said, shaking both men's hands.

"Same," Lassiter said but Shawn said nothing, just stared at the lawyer in front of him for a long moment before he grinned.

"Shall we?" Harvey asked, placing a hand on Mike's lower back as they approached the hostess to be seated. "So Shawn," Harvey said setting his menu aside, the waiter had just left with their drink orders, "Mike tells me that you're a psychic too." Mike looked up at him in surprise, trying to convey the pleading to keep his mouth shut without it showing blatantly on his face.

"I am," Shawn replied smoothly, "it runs in the family, as I'm sure you're aware of Mike's abilities."

"I am," Harvey replied. "Can you do a reading anytime, anyplace or does it just happen randomly?"

"A lot of times it's random, but I can usually sit down with someone and give them a reading," Shawn said, shrugging.

"Can you give me a reading right now?" Harvey asked and Mike kicked out, trying to catch him in the shin to shut him up.

"Ow!" Lassiter cried and Mike realized that he had very much kicked the wrong person.

"Sorry," he muttered and took a drink of his beer when the waiter brought their drinks, "I have spasms sometimes."

"I'd be happy to," Shawn said and placed his middle finger to his temple like Mike had seen him do earlier at the crime scene.

"Shawn, you don't have to do this," Mike broke in and both Shawn and Harvey shot him a look which caused him to slump down in his seat.

"Your suits are tailor-made," Shawn started out and Harvey cocked an eyebrow, "by a man named… Ray, Ren, Rene?" he asked and Harvey looked mildly impressed. "You are a senior partner of Pearson-Hardman, your boss… Jessica? Forced you on vacation and Mike dragged you out here." Mike shook his head, knowing that Shawn had just used something that he had blatantly told him.

"Not bad," Harvey said, leaning back when the waiter came back with their drinks and then took their food orders.

"Have you heard from Uncle Jack lately?" Mike asked, trying to change the subject as he took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, he came around a couple of years ago," Shawn replied as Harvey and Lassiter started a conversation.

"Still treasure hunting?" Mike asked and a strange look crossed Shawn's face.

"He, or I should saw we, found treasure, he tried to run off with it." There was an odd bitter tone to Shawn's voice and Mike narrowed his eyes. He remembered their uncle, had always had some hare-brained scheme, some tale about traveling the world, searching for treasure. Henry and Mike's mother had always discouraged them from hero worshiping the man, but Mike and Shawn hadn't listened. The man had not even shown up to his parents' funerals but had sent him a post card from Buenos Aires saying he was sorry he'd missed it.

"So Harvey," Shawn asked, later as they finished their dinners and were waiting for desert, something Shawn had insisted on.

"Yes Shawn?" Harvey replied taking another sip of his bourbon and watching the other man.

"What are your intentions towards my cousin?" Shawn asked and Mike rolled his eyes. Harvey and Lassiter had gotten along famously, there was even a talk about suits and Mike swore he saw Harvey hand Lassiter Rene's card.

"My… intentions?" Harvey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, since Mike's parents have passed on, someone has to give you 'the talk'."

"Oh my god Shawn, really?" Mike asked and Shawn waived his protests away, still staring at Harvey.

"Shush Mike, the adults are talking," Shawn said and Mike glared at him, "do you plan to make Mike a respectable man?" he asked, looking back to Harvey.

"Are you asking me if I plan to marry Mike?" Harvey asked, his voice measured.

"Well gay marriage is now legal in New York; do you plan to take that step?"

"Shawn, stop," Mike interrupted, "we haven't even had this conversation, hell, we haven't been dating that long."

"It's a valid question, you tend to fall in with the wrong crowd, Harvey seems like a good guy, I want to know if he plans to stick around," Shawn explained.

"Shawn-" Mike started, planning on ripping his cousin a new one.

"Yes," was said at the same time and Mike turned towards Harvey, who was still staring at Shawn, his eyes wide.

"What?" he asked in shock, they had only been dating for six months, the longest relationship he had ever had, but he didn't think that Harvey would be serious, though he was sure that this was the other man's longest relationship as well.

"We have only been dating for six months," Harvey went on to explain, "and I prefer a longer relationship, but eventually, yes I plan to ask him to marry me." There was a long silence at the table after Harvey's speech as the other three stared at him.

"Good," Shawn replied and Mike shut his mouth when he realized that it was still hanging open. "Once you do though, I expect you to ask both myself and my father's permission."

"I had planned to ask his grandmother," Harvey pointed out and Shawn grinned when the waiter placed his desert in front of him.

"Her too," he amended before taking a bite of the chocolate cake.

Later, after saying goodbye to Shawn and Lassiter at the restaurant, Mike and Harvey returned to their hotel room and Harvey started to undress, pulling his jacket from his shoulders and loosening his tie. Mike sat on the bed and watched him for a long moment.

"So," he said, when Harvey had unbuttoned his shirt and headed into the bathroom.

"So?" Harvey asked, poking his head out, his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

"Did you mean it?" Mike asked in a rush when Harvey went back into the room. He heard the other man spit and the water running before being shut off and Harvey exited, toweling off his hands and stared at Mike.

"You're the psychic, you tell me," the older mans said, tossing the towel back in the bathroom and Mike scowled before standing and pulling the jacket from his shoulders. He walked to the closet and reached for a hanger, he had made the mistake once of just throwing it over the back of a chair and he never wanted to go through the 'The Many Places Suit Jackets Don't Belong' lecture again. He reached forward and placed the jacket inside the closet when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind and Harvey's chin rest on his shoulder.

"Yes," he said quietly and Mike drew in a deep breath, "but, like I said, it won't be for a while." Mike turned in his arms and wrapped his own arms around Harvey's neck, grinning.

"I can live with that," he said and leaned up for a kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Ok, so this story has a plot, yay! Except I don't know if I want to go with this. The only thing that I wanted to get across was another crossover between White Collar and Psych and Suits. Also I was thinking of creating a world with all sorts of crossovers, like White Collar and Leverage because, if there is a world where Nathan Ford and Neal Caffrey exist, Nate would have chased him at one point. And I was thinking of others, but that would be different stories and not this one. Again, I don't know about this chapter, so let me know what you think, if no one likes it, I'll redo it.

Thanks to those for reviewing and please keep them coming.

* * *

"What's this?" Mike asked, picking up a piece of notepaper lying on Shawn's desk, it had been folded in half at one point but it was now open with a messy scrawl filling most of the page.

"Nothing," Shawn said, waiving a hand dismissively but Mike took a closer look at it.

"Shawn this is threatening note," Mike protested, reading the words, it was simple, only six words, reading 'Stay away from the Peterson case'.

"Please," Shawn said waiving his hand in dismissal, "I've seen worse, in fact last week, we were working on a jewelery heist and a brick was thrown through our window. I keep them in this drawer here," Shawn said pulling open a drawer in his desk to show a small stack of papers.

"You said that was an accident," Gus said from across the room, rising to see this stack of papers, but Shawn closed the drawer before he reached them.

"It was," Shawn defended, "and this isn't even a good threatening letter, there isn't even a threat."

"Does Lassiter know about this?" Gus asked, taking the note from Mike's hand and reading it for himself.

"If I told Lassiter about every threatening note or phone call, he'd never let me out of his sight."

"Phone calls?" both Mike and Gus repeated.

"Guys, seriously, don't worry about it," Shawn said, clapping a hand on both of their shoulders but Mike pushed the hand off and turned away.

"Shawn, I do worry about it, you may pretend that it's not a big deal but I'm not looking for trouble, I'm leaving tomorrow, I'll see you tonight at your dad's place." With that, Mike turned and walked towards the door and opened it.

"Mike, hold on," Shawn called out as he noticed two men stopping outside the window's, facing them. They stood out because they were wearing dark clothing, dark baseball caps and sunglasses and as he turned to face them fully, he saw them raise guns.

Gus started to follow Mike out, wanting to talk to the other man as well as being upset with Shawn about the phone calls and notes when the glass in front of them exploded. He ducked down, covering his head as glass rained down on him. Over the sound of gunfire he could hear screams and people running and he scrambled backwards towards the wall. It seemed to take forever before the gunfire stopped and the silence was loud. Gus stuck his head over the window cautiously, checking for the men but they seemed to have fled and there was no sign of them.

"Shawn," Gus turned to where his friend had been and found him lying on the floor blood pooling below him. "Shawn!" he cried, crawling to his side, trying to avoid the glass. From what he could see there was a long gash on his head, his arm was bleeding as well as his chest. "Oh God," Gus said, his hands fluttering, not knowing what to do. "Mike, call 911!" he called, turning towards where Mike had been to find him also on the ground. He made his way towards him and found him also lying in a pool of blood, most of it coming from his chest area. Gus had a moment of panic before he reached for his phone and pressed his hand to Shawn's chest.

Lassiter, Juliette, Henry and Harvey pushed their way into the hospital, making their way to the receptionist desk, demanding to know where their loved ones were.

"Lassiter, Henry," a voice called before they could get far and they turned to see Gus standing there, he was wearing a scrubs shirt, his left bicep and hands were bandaged.

"Gus," Juliette rushed forward and pulled him into a hug, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied and Juliette gripped his wrists in question, "glass, and I was grazed by a bullet," he said looking at his arm.

"What about Mike and Shawn?" Henry asked anxiously.

"I don't know," Gus said, shaking his head, "they went into surgery." Those around him took a deep breath and sat down. "Henry, should we call Neal?" he asked the older man and Henry looked up, surprised.

"I didn't even think of that," he said, "I don't have a number to reach him at."

"Who's Neal?" Juliette asked, holding Gus' hand gently.

"Mike's brother," Gus replied.

At the nurse's station this was being taken care of though, unbeknownst to those waiting for word on the two young men. Nurse Amy Fuller pulled up the information on Michael Ross to call his emergency contacts. After reaching Harvey Specter earlier she called the second number listed under 'Dante Haversham'.

* * *

New York

Across the country, Mozzie was enjoying the afternoon at one of his favorite cafes when his phone range and a number he did not recognize other than the area code flashed across the screen. Very few people had this number and he knew all of the numbers that would call him there and knew those who knew this number would not give it out unless it was important. So, with a sense of dread, he opened the phone and put it to his ear.

"Hello," he said, wondering if he would need to change his number again, the paranoia gnawing at him.

"Is this a Mr. Dante Haversham?" a female voice asked and Mozzie quickly ran over the things he could tell by that voice. She was young, maybe early to mid twenties, professional but there was a note to her voice one that spoke of an age older than her own that set him on edge.

"May I ask who is calling?" he replied.

"Yes, my name is Amy Fuller and I am a nurse at Santa Barbara General and I have you listed as an emergency contact for a Michael Ross."

"I'm Dante Haversham," he said finally, a million things running through his head as she explained the situation. Once she was done, he thanked her and hung up and sat there for a long moment, processing. He talked to Mike on a monthly basis, wanting to know that a kid he had looked to like a brother at one time was alive and well, even if his real brother couldn't be bothered. Mike was funny and smart, scary smart, and would have been a great thief one day, if he had felt the calling.

Standing quickly, he threw money down on the table and made his way towards Neal's building. Once he reached it, he didn't bother knocking, too preoccupied, and nearly scared June to death as he walked in. Throwing her an apology over his shoulder, he made his way upstairs to Neal's apartment and barged in, again without knocking.

"Call the suit and get permission to go to California," Mozzie said and Neal looked up from paperwork spread across the table in front of him in surprise.

"Peter would never let me and why would I?" the other man asked surprised at his friend.

"Mike's been shot," Mozzie said and Neal felt the air whoosh out of his lungs.

"You don't have a brother," Peter Burke said as soon as he arrived at Neal's apartment to find the thief packing.

"Yes, I do," Neal said, walking to his bathroom to pack his toiletries.

"If you had a brother I would have known about it, remember, I know everything about you," Peter said watching him, noticing his agitation.

"Mike is my half brother, we share the same mother but have different father's, I'm eight years older than him and took my grandmother's maiden name when I was old enough to change it. I hid this from you and everyone to protect him, I have many enemies that would not hesitate to use him given the chance. I haven't talked to him in almost ten years," Neal finished sounding guilty.

"Then how do you know he's in trouble?" Peter asked.

"Because, Mike listed Mozzie as an emergency contact and they called."

"From California?"

"I have an uncle and cousin out there, there's a good chance he was visiting them," Neal said, starting to feel frustrated.

"You have an uncle and cousin?" Peter asked, sounding surprised and Neal sighed.

"I may have hidden that as well," he replied shrugging.

"What's their name and number, I'm going to call and verify," Peter said, pulling out his phone.

"I don't know," Neal said after thinking about it for a moment, wondering if he had their number's somewhere. "But you can call the hospital, Santa Barbara General ask for Michael Ross."

"I will," Peter said, stepping out onto the parapet to make the call as Neal finished packing. Fifteen minutes later, he was back and eying Neal with a suspicious look on his face and they stared at each other for a long moment.

"I've cleared it with the bureau, it took some fast talking but I was able to convince them to let us fly out there for two days and then they want us back."

"Thank you Peter," Neal said genuinely but the other man held up a finger.

"If I find that this is some hoax, some trick you're pulling, you'll be in deep shit, understood?"

"This is no hoax Peter, my brother is in the hospital and I need to get out there."

"Then lets go, I need to get home and pack," Peter said, leading the way out of the apartment, "and you're going to explain some things on the way."

* * *

California

It was a long wait, the coffee wasn't worth the money and the chairs were some of the most uncomfortable that Lassiter had the misfortune to sit in so he ended up pacing half the time and yelling at poor nurses the other. Every time he had asked for any news, he received the same answer, that the nurse's didn't know enough and that they would have to wait for the surgeon's.

"Carlton, please sit down," Juliette asked, running her finger's over Gus' head that lay in her lap after he had finally fallen asleep.

"Why didn't he tell me about the phone calls and notes?" her partner demanded and Juliette shrugged.

"Maybe because he was afraid you would react like this?" she said and that had the older man sitting down heavily.

"Are you saying that I should be reacting differently to the fact that my boyfriend has been threatened?" When she didn't respond he looked to the side to see her smiling at him and he narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"I think that's the first time that you've called him your boyfriend in front of me," she said and chuckled at his sour look.

He and Shawn had only been officially dating for four months and it would probably surprise most people that it had been Lassiter that had made the first move. He wasn't one for outward shows of affection but he thought that Shawn had to know he cared for him though he drove Lassiter crazy.

"What would you have done if he had?" Juliette asked and Lassiter opened his mouth before shutting it without saying anything.

"Locked him up and thrown away the key," Henry said, returning with Harvey, two cups of coffee in each of their hands and each handed one to the detectives sitting.

"And that is exactly what he wouldn't want you to do," Juliette pointed out and both boyfriend and father rolled their eyes.

"Is anyone here for Shawn Spencer?" a voice asked and they turned to find a man wearing scrubs there and Lassiter and Henry stood, Juliette tried to wake Gus but he had been given pain meds and was out cold.

"We are," Henry said feeling anxious. The doctor looked at the two men before him and contemplated asking them to sit but thought better of it from what the nurses had said about the man in the suit.

"I'm Doctor Peterson, Shawn took a bullet to his right shoulder, another to his left arm and another that grazed his head. The bullet to his shoulder shattered his collarbone and will need physical therapy to get full use back, the bullet to his arm went strait through and we were able to patch it up, no problem." Here the doctor paused and took a deep breath. "The wound to his head does have us worried, it did some damage."

"How much?" Henry broke in.

"Honestly, we won't know until he wakes up."

"Wait," Henry said feeling like he had been punched in the stomach, "are you saying there might be brain damage?"

"There is swelling on his brain right now that we're going to monitor and when he wakes up, we'll see if there is any damage. We're going to take him in for surgery to repair his collarbone now and will let you know when we're done."

"Thank you doctor," Henry said when he realized that the doctor was done and Lassiter was about to open his mouth again and the doctor turned to go.

"Doctor, what about Mike Ross?" Harvey called, stopping him.

"Mike Ross?" the doctor asked, turning back.

"He came in with Shawn," Henry supplied and the doctor seemed to think about it before his face cleared and he looked at those waiting again.

"We'll let you know," he said and turned on his heel and leaving. Harvey sank back into his chair and placed his head in his hands.

At least four hours later, they were still waiting, Juliette had fallen asleep, Gus was still lying across her lap, Harvey was trying to stay awake, Henry was snoring across the room and Lassiter had left. He said he couldn't just sit there, he had to do something so he had gone to yell at the police who had processed the scene and find out what he could.

Henry was awoken by a hand on his arm and jolted up, looking around him in a panic before the reality of what had happened settled in. Running a tired hand over his face he looked up to see who had awakened him and found Neal standing over him.

"Neal," he said and stood, pulling his nephew into his arms and the hug was returned.

"Have you heard anything?" he asked, pulling back and Henry shook his head.

"Not yet," he replied.

"What happened?" Neal asked, taking a seat next to him after introducing Peter and Mozzie to those around him and greeting those there. They told them what happened from what Gus had told them and Neal ended up with his head in his hands. He picked up his head and looked to Henry and was about to say something but he was interrupted.

"Is anyone here for Michael Ross?"


End file.
